


Tat (Tattoo)

by 4Lorn



Series: Sut en Jus (Dust and Blood) [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 04:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17594978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4Lorn/pseuds/4Lorn
Summary: Lexa has tattoos, and Clarke finds herself drawing them often. But she's never known what it is they represent, until she does.





	Tat (Tattoo)

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit, this piece was somewhat hard for me to write, and not in the good way. I fully expect it to be rough around the edges, and for that I apologize. This one in particular just didn't come real easy to me.
> 
> That being said, the next update may take longer time, as the next one will most likely be a much longer piece. It's gonna be great though, you won't be disappointed! ;)

_Tat_

(Tattoo)

"It's beautiful."

Clarke jumps in her seat, but it's Lexa's voice, so she manages to draw hand back from the dagger at her hip before she does anything she'll regret. She tips her head back so she's looking up at her, and the other girl smiles down at her softly.

"You're beautiful," Clarke replies, and it's true.

"Clarke…" Lexa sounds exasperated, but she blushes, and Clarke knows she doesn't mind. She straightens and moves to sit at Clarke's feet. They're in Lexa's room. It's a warm, quiet day, and they're enjoying the rare occurrence while they can. Sunlight shines through the open window, painting Lexa's eyes a vivid green. Clarke can't take her gaze away for a long moment, and her fingers itch with the urge to draw once more.

"Clarke?" Lexa's brow knits with worry. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Clarke shakes her head with a smile. She sits up from where she's curled up on the corner of the couch, looking down at the sketchbook in her lap. "But really. If it's beautiful, then so are you. It's your tattoo."

Lexa leans over so she can see the sketch more clearly. It's Lexa's tattoo, the one on her back, the seven circles falling from the incomplete larger circle on top.

"Seven circles for seven initiates in the Conclave," Clarke recalls. She looks up at Lexa. Their faces are inches away from each other. Clarke almost kisses her, but Lexa draws away before she can.

"Yes."

Clarke notices the change in her tone and her own voice softens. "You always get sad when we talk about it," she says. "Why?"

Lexa sighs and looks away. "It is one of those times that I wish had not happened, a time I regret. I have many of those, Clarke. You know that."

Clarke clears her throat and sets her sketchbook aside. She feels herself going back there. "I do too."

Suddenly, Lexa is there, hand cupping her cheek. "Come back to me, Clarke," she says softly, yet urgently. She runs her thumb over Clarke's brow, and Clarke looks up at her to see worried eyes. Lexa does this often, when she sees Clarke going back to Atom and the Mountain and everything in between. As time passes, Clarke finds herself doing the same with Lexa. Somehow, it's through their haunted pasts and their many regrets that they've found solace in each other.

Clarke shakes her head, trying to knock the ghosts and memories off of her shoulders. "Distract me," she tells Lexa, somewhat blankly.

Lexa smiles. "I can do that."

She slides her hand down to the back of Clarke's neck and pulls her in. Then, they're kissing. Clarke wraps her arms around Lexa's shoulders, pulling her in further, trying to get closer. Lexa leans forward more, and Clarke moves with her, laying back so her head is on the arm of the couch. Lexa kisses her harder. She bites her bottom lip, gently, but it's enough to draw a noise from Clarke. That seems to spur Lexa. Her fingers start to glide down Clarke's side, under her shirt.

But then, suddenly, Niylah is there is her head. Finn.

"Lexa," Clarke says between kisses. " _Lexa_."

Lexa immediately draws back. "Clarke?"

"I…" Clarke has to take a moment to catch her breath, from the kissing and the panic. "I can't. I can't right now."

Lexa stares down at her for a moment, and then nods. She climbs off of Clarke and returns to her seat on the couch. She reaches out and pulls Clarke back up too. They're both sitting up now, but Lexa keeps Clarke's hand in hers. "What else can I do to distract you?" she asks, genuinely wondering.

"Talk, maybe?" Clarke says uncertainly

"About?"

Clarke shrugs. "Anything."

Lexa seems to think for a moment, and her eyes find the sketchbook. She studies it, and then takes a deep breath. "I got my back  _tat_ and neck  _tat_ on my Ascension Day," she says. "As I told you before, seven circles for seven initiates who lost their lives in the Conclave, seven spirits that have become my responsibility to carry on."

"That's why it makes you sad," Clarke suddenly realizes. "You had to…"

"Yes."

Clarke pauses, but her curiosity gets the best of her. "You never told me what happened to number eight."

Lexa seems like she won't answer for a long moment, but then she says, "She's still alive."

"I though everyone else in the Conclave had to-"

"Something about Luna was different from the rest of us," Lexa interrupts, not meanly. "She never wanted to fight in the Conclave. She never wanted to be Commander. She never wanted any of it. She wanted to live in peace, to build a place where violence wasn't always the answer." She looks at Clarke meaningfully. "Where blood must not have blood."

"She rubbed off on you," Clarke points out.

"For a time," Lexa admits. She takes a deep breath. "Like the rest of us, Luna eventually accepted her fate as a Nightblood and became a warrior. But when the Conclave began, Luna killed her brother, and she ran instead of staying to fight. There was only supposed to be one Nightblood left, so I went after her, and I found her, but I…."

"You let her go."

"Yes." Lexa nods. "But I couldn't tell anyone, or my place as Commander would be in question. Clarke." She looks at her, suddenly urgent. "You can't tell anyone."

"Of course I won't, Lexa," Clarke immediately replies, not a trace of doubt in her voice. She pauses. "Did it work? Did she do it?"

Lexa smiles. "Yes. She is leader of the Boat People now. They are part of the Coalition, but they live in peace. They have all committed to never fighting again, and I have never called on them to fight since."

"That's incredible," Clarke says. She catches Lexa's gaze. "Will we ever be able to do that?"

"Maybe not," Lexa answers. "But we can try."

Clarke considers that. Then she asks, "Can I see it again?"

Lexa nods and turns so her back is to Clarke. She pulls her shirt partway off so only her her back is uncovered, save for her wrappings. Clarke traces up the circuit-like stream falling from the open circle at the top and Lexa shivers a little. Clarke finds herself staring at that top circle.

"This top one looks just like alpha station," Clarke remarks, and when Lexa gives her a questioning look over her shoulder, "The Ark was made up of twelve stations, but when the stations were first uniting, there was a thirteenth. Those onboard refused to join the rest of the Ark and the station was destroyed."

Lexa hums. "It depicts the first Commander. She fell from the sky with the Flame, the Commander's spirit." She smiles over her shoulder. "A lot like you."

Clarke returns the smile, but her mind is elsewhere, mulling over the ramifications of what she has just learned. Lexa must see her wandering off again, because she asks, "Anything else?"

Clarke blinks and returns to the present. "The circles are different sizes. Why?"

"I was closer to some of the Nightbloods than I was the others," Lexa says simply.

"Who were they?"

Lexa takes too long to answer, so Clarke hurriedly says, "You don't have to tell me, Lexa."

"No, it's okay," she says softly. "They deserve to be known by someone else." So she begins to name them off, "Kayden, Silas, Neveah, Jaxon, Nora, Luca, and Ryker… Those were their names."

"Beautiful names," Clarke remarks.

Lexa laughs softly. "Yes, they are, aren't they?" She pulls her shirt back over her head and turns so she is facing Clarke again. "Was that enough distraction?"

"What about the infinity symbol on your neck?" Clarke asks, because that's answer enough.

"It symbolizes the Flame, and the reincarnation of the Commanders," Lexa tells her, easily this time. "It is an infinite loop, a long line of succession that only pauses when the spirit of the Commander chooses another."

Clarke motions to the tattoo on her arm, with the symmetrical blocks of swirling patterns. "And that one? You had only four when I first met you. Now you have six. Why?"

"It is…" Lexa sighs. "It's for the ones I've lost."

"Oh." That makes Clarke stop for a moment. "Who…"

"Costia," Lexa says, almost immediately. "My father, Kohl, and Oren. The two newest ones are..." Her voice softens. "They're Gustus and Anya."

"Lexa," Clarke says. "I'm sorry."

Lexa is shaking her head. "Don't apologize Clarke. It's not your fault."

"I'm sorry you've lost them."  _I'm sorry you've lost so many._

Lexa just nods. They sit in silence for a while. Then, Lexa speaks, "I was going to get one for you."

Clarke's head shoots up. "What? Why?"

"I thought you were dead after I left the Mountain." Lexa won't look at her. "I was sure you would be dead. When Penn told me that you and your people were alive, I-" She clears her throat. "Even after that I wasn't sure if you were alive. It wasn't until I found out Nia was looking for you that I enlisted Roan's help. By that time, I desperately hoped I wouldn't need another one."

"Hey," Clarke reaches out and lifts up Lexa's chin so she'll look at her. "That was months ago." Maybe not a long time, but on a world where mere seconds could be the difference between life and death, it was long enough. "I know why you did it now. I get it. It's okay, Lexa."

Lexa shakes her head. "No. It's not. But it is done, and I suppose I'll have to live with that."

"Who were they?" Clarke says, trying to change the subject. "Kohl and Oren?"

Lexa seems to consider that for a moment, but then she just looks at Clarke and quietly asks, "Can we talk about something else?"

Clarke recognizes this. There are a lot of things Clarke has learned about Lexa over the past several months, but there are also certain things Lexa isn't quite ready to share. Her own way of telling Clarke this is those words.

"Of course," Clarke answers gently. Lexa is the one in need of distraction now, so she says, "I'm thinking of getting one. A tattoo."

Lexa's eyes widen in surprise. "Where?"

Clarke just shrugs, but she knows exactly where. "On my back. A knife with the blade of a bullet. Inside of a flame, and a larger flame around that. All made of dots."

Lexa studies her, and though Clarke suspects she already knows the answer, she asks anyways, "What does it mean?"

"A knife," Clarke says. "Atom, Finn, others… A bullet. Dante and the sniper. The smaller flame is the dropship. The larger one is the Mountain."

"And the dots are all of them," Lexa murmurs.

"Yeah." Clarke clears her throat and looks up at her. "Over nine-hundred now. I've been thinking about it for a while."

Lexa sighs. "Clarke…"

"Lexa," Clarke answers. "I told Emerson this. I don't deserve peace, and I don't deserve forgiveness. After everything I've done, I don't deserve it. But even if I don't, those I've killed do. Maybe I can't bring them back, but I can carry them on. I can become the person who makes all their efforts for peace come true. They're not all forgivable either, but you and I both know that's all any of us or any of those we've killed ever wanted."

Lexa watches her face for a long moment. Then, she nods, seeming to accept that. She moves over on the couch so she is right next to Clarke and takes her hands in hers again. "Neither of us deserve peace of forgiveness, Clarke," she says. "And if that's your intentions with this mark, then I believe it's worth it. But listen to me." She reaches up and tucks Clarke's hair behind her ear. "Even if you don't deserve it, I've forgiven you, and I hope you find peace someday. I hope  _we_ find peace someday."

"Me too," Clarke agrees. "Not just for us. I want to find peace for them."

"I know."

They sit there in silence for a few moments, thinking. Lexa glances at the sketchbook, and then admits, "I have one more."

"What?" Clarke says, surprised. "But I've never seen-"

"I know," Lexa says. "It's… small, and I usually don't talk about it."

"Lexa, you don't have to-"

"I know," Lexa repeats. "But I want to."

"Okay." Clarke turns so she is facing Lexa directly. "What is it?"

Lexa pauses for a moment, and then bends her knee to pull her right foot onto the couch. She rolls the leg of her pants up to her knee, and Clarke releases a little breath. It's a bird, outlined in gold and painted with white. It's small, the size of Clarke's palm, imprinted just above Lexa's ankle bone.

"It's beautiful," Clarke breaths. "What is it?"

"It's Costia," Lexa answers softly. "She wanted peace. The dove symbolizes that. She flew away to a better place, but I wanted to keep a part of her with me."

"Oh, Lexa." Clarke nudges Lexa's leg off the couch and scoots closer to her. She slides her arms around her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug. "I think she is. With how much  _you_ want peace, I know she is."

"Clarke?" Clarke pulls away to see her expression, somewhere between fear and sadness. "Don't go. Please."

Clarke shakes her head. "I'm not going anywhere, Lexa. If we're finding peace, we're finding it together." Lexa nods and lays her forehead on Clarke's shoulder. Clarke massages the base of her skull in return. Then, she laughs, almost giggles.

Lexa lifts her head. "What?"

"Only you could turn a conversation about tattoos into something like this." Clarke smirks. "Drama queen."

"Excuse me." Lexa's voice is hard, but she's smiling. "I am the Commander."

Clarke rolls her eyes. "Whatever, drama queen. Come on. Let's go make sure Polis hasn't burned down while we were talking."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Lexa grumbles. She stands, but Clarke catches her hand one more time.

"Lexa," she says. "I'm not going anywhere."

Lexa stares at her for a long moment, and then smiles. She leans down and kisses the back of Clarke's hand. "I know, Clarke. Neither am I."


End file.
